The Riddle of the Purple Emperor

"I cannot fathom the mystery at all. I returned to Cheyne Court to make another attempt on the place, but found that the broken window is now barred and shuttered, so there is evidently still someone in the place. Don't you think you could take the law into your own hands and force an entry? Mr. Narkom, when I think that my dear girl may be kept there a prisoner, I go nearly mad with terror of what they may do to her – the devils!"

Mr. Narkom nodded sympathetically, and stole a side glance at Cleek's impassive face.

"I don't doubt it, Sir Edgar," he replied, "but it's a dangerous thing to break into a house, you know. Still, there is the excuse of a forcible abduction of the young lady perhaps, and if it is Miss Cheyne who is at the bottom of it, I don't mind trying to bluff her about burglars being in the neighbourhood, etc. We could say how unsafe it was with those jewels about."

He looked across at his ally for approval and Cleek, with a little smile hovering round his lips, nodded.

"Yes, why not?" he said. "I'd like to have another look at Cheyne Court by daylight and locate that abominable row – "

"Have you heard it, then?" broke in Sir Edgar hastily. "I was beginning to think my brain was giving way, and that the old superstition was right, after all."

"What superstition is that?" asked Cleek.

"Why, Cheyne Court has always been supposed to be haunted by a wailing lady who presages death to the owner, and for the past week nearly everyone seems to have heard her. I refused to believe it till last night, when I couldn't keep away from the place. 'Pon my word, the sound fairly made my blood run cold. What do you think about it, Mr. Headland?"

"A good deal, sir, and that's the truth," responded Cleek. "There's some villainy on foot and I don't take heed of any wailing ladies till I see how it's done. Now if you're ready, sir."

Sir Edgar was ready and the three, with Dollops hovering in the background, made their way to the ill-fated abode. Silent and grim-looking, with its lower windows shuttered, an oppressive silence seemed to overhang it. This was speedily broken by their sending peal after peal from the door-bell ringing through the building.

But no answer came. There was no sound of approaching footsteps and Sir Edgar, pale and despairing, stepped back into the gravelled path and gazed up into the windows. As he did so, he gave a cry and pointed upward. Cleek and Narkom sprang to his side just in time to see the wrinkled and malevolent face of Miss Cheyne looking down on them. That she was bitterly angry they could see, for though they could only guess at the stream of invective pouring from her shaking lips, a frenzied fist shaken in their direction warned them that any liberties taken with her abode would be bitterly resented. She disappeared suddenly from view and Sir Edgar turned upon his companions.

"Help me break the door down," he cried, forgetting all caution. "My dear girl is in there with that harridan, who has perhaps killed her for the sake of those accursed jewels! Some women would sell their very soul for diamonds, and she is one of them."

Cleek pursed up his lips and gave forth a low whistle.

"That's a fact," he assented. "Let's try the back." Recognizing that at least one emissary of the law was on his side, Sir Edgar darted along the terrace and on his way to the rear of the house. All the windows were shuttered and barred but a handy brick smashed the glass of one and their combined assaults on the time-worn shutters behind soon gave them an entry.

Cleek left Dollops on guard outside.

"Don't let a single person escape, Dollops," he said. "Whistle if anybody attempts to come out, but don't let them go."

"Righto, guv'nor," was the cheerful answer. "Don't you worrit; I'll put some of my 'tickle tootsies' along here as I follows yer, an' it'll be a downy old bird wot escapes me and them as well; wot?"

Cleek smiled approvingly and followed his two companions into the house, perfectly content to leave the care of the outside to Dollops. Already he could hear Sir Edgar impetuously racing from floor to floor, making the oak rafters ring with Lady Margaret's name. But no sight or sound of her rewarded his efforts.

Mr. Narkom, pulling down shutter after shutter, let in the gorgeous light of day, but it was soon evident that the house was empty. Neither servants nor mistress rewarded their search. Neither did subsequent tapping and close scrutiny reveal a panel or trap-door. No cornered criminal was to be found; no gagged and bound figure of the girl they sought. There was nothing but the scamper of frightened mice behind the wainscoting. Miss Cheyne had disappeared before their very eyes, mysteriously, inexplicably, but disappeared nevertheless!

As they stood in the empty ballroom, its walls lined with age-old portraits, the furniture dusty and moth-eaten, there came a sound that made even Cleek, to whom it was no stranger, shudder. It was a low, horrible moaning which seemed to permeate the whole house.

For a moment they stood rooted to the spot in horrified silence, then Sir Edgar spoke in a quaking whisper:

"Heavens above! what is it?"

Nobody answered him, for it was a question impossible to answer. All they could do was to search the house again from garret to basement, but Miss Cheyne had apparently disappeared as mysteriously as her niece. Whether by her own will or not, it was impossible to say.

Back once more on the terrace they were compelled to own themselves beaten, and Cleek and Mr. Narkom looked at one another in sympathetic dismay at this set-back to their plans. They both had counted on coming face to face with the eccentric guardian of the girl whose life was in such evident danger. Suddenly Sir Edgar gave a little startled exclamation and turning in the direction of his gaze they saw the figure of a fair and slender woman running toward them.

As she drew near, Cleek's heart gave a little leap of delight, for it was the woman who meant more to him than all the world. A second later he quickened his steps to meet her.

"Oh, I am so worried!" Ailsa said swiftly. "I am thankful I have found you at last. It is that poor girl you drove home that night, Lady Margaret Cheyne, you know. I have tried so many times to see her. I have called and called, but have always been refused admittance. Now this morning I was in the lane when I saw Lady Margaret at a window and she dropped this scrap of paper. See!" She handed Cleek a little screwed-up piece of paper on which was scrawled "Miss Lorne, save me! Margaret." "She was snatched away before I could call to her. What does it mean?" asked Ailsa, wistfully looking from one face to the other.

"I should not be surprised if that dangerous stone, the Purple Emperor, is at the bottom of it all," said Cleek.

Sir Edgar took the scrap of paper from Ailsa's fingers, and read it slowly through. Then he cried vehemently:

"I'll save her, if I commit murder fifty times over."

As he spoke, he plunged along the lane, the ill-fated words lingering in their minds long after he had disappeared.

"It's an absolute mystery at present," said Cleek softly, his chin pinched up in his hand. "There must be some way of getting in and out of that house which we haven't yet fathomed, and I'd like to have a shot at finding it. I think, too, we shall have to keep an eye on our young friend, Sir Edgar, or he will be getting into trouble. Never fear, Ailsa," he added, gently, "I will save the little girl somehow, but I mean to give myself the pleasure of walking back with you first."

The walk was but a brief one, and Cleek on his return to the inn sent an urgent message to the Towers asking Sir Edgar to come down to him. He meant to keep a watchful eye on his movements and prevent further trouble if possible.

Dollops returned half an hour later with the disconcerting news that the master had gone up to town.

Cleek switched on his heel, alert and surprised.

"Gone!" he said excitedly "What does that mean? Does he think he is going to find Lady Margaret wandering about Piccadilly Circus? Well, anyhow, he is safe up there out of reach of doing any mad tricks. Ah, if I could only find the secret of that house I'd go a long way toward restoring that child."

"Well, if you don't find it I'll bet a tanner to a fresh herrin' no one will, guv'nor," exclaimed Dollops indignantly. "There ain't no one in the world wot's got your kind o' brains, and that's a fact. You'll find the secret out all right, sir, if yer only has patience. And in the meantime, if yer don't want me any more, I'll just pop along to the restaurant and have a sandwich, for I'm that empty you can hear me ribs rattle!"

He left the room, and Cleek sat alone, trying to puzzle out the whole awful affair. But it was like some jig-saw puzzle in which all the pieces were odd, and he did not hold the key to the solution.

CHAPTER X

A SHOT IN THE DARK

The case was one that fascinated Cleek, and as it seemed absolutely certain that Sir Edgar would not venture back within the precincts of home that night, both he and Mr. Narkom prepared to make another investigation of Cheyne Court. Constable Roberts and Dollops were patrolling the forked lanes, and thanks to the latter's supply of "tickle tootsies" as he persisted in terming them and which were really an ingenious invention of his own consisting of slabs of brown paper well smothered with molasses, there was no fear of any one being able to approach without being seen.

A brisk two minutes' walk brought them to the picturesque house with its ivy-wrapped walls, dark Gothic windows, and quaintly carved chimney-pots. A medieval appearance was strengthened by a deep moat, long since dried up, but which gave it the air of an old-world castle. A ruined drawbridge completed the resemblance, though the actual date of its erection was certainly not in the bygone ages.

Cleek and Mr. Narkom had hardly approached the western side, where Constable Roberts had been stationed on guard, when that official came rushing toward them, breathing hard with excitement, his eyes nearly starting from his head.

"A shot, sir," he gasped. "As true as I'm 'ere, I heard a shot fired from somewhere, and a man rushed by me in the lane down there, waving his arms wildly, and then 'e vanished."

"Couldn't you catch a glimpse of him?" rapped out Cleek briskly. "What was he, a labourer, gentleman, or what?"

"Couldn't say, sir. I had turned my back, and was looking up at the blessed house, when I 'ears the sound of a shot, be'ind me it seemed, and round I spins, and next I knows was my helmet knocked down on my 'ead, and a man sprinting down the lane for dear life. By the time I'd got it lifted, 'e was gone."

"H'm! Sure it was a man?" asked Cleek, as the three men came out once more into the lane.

"Well!" said the police-constable, startled by this new hypothesis. "Now you speak, sir – the footsteps was light enough and there was a precious fine scent."

Before he could volunteer any further ideas, he caught sight of something which apparently drove them all from his head.

In his excitement he gripped the arm of Mr. Narkom, oblivious for the time being of their relative positions. "Look, sir," he said, "blest if there ain't somebody got into the 'ouse now, though 'ow they've bin and done it, beats me!"

Only a minute before the house had loomed up dark and cheerless, without a single sign of habitation. Now in the lower room known both by Cleek and the superintendent to be the dining room, someone was obviously walking about with a light held in one hand. For a moment all three stood stock-still gaping at one another in blank amazement, then Cleek spoke.